Getting Credit
by SnarkWrangler
Summary: Kiba and Naruto take a Japanese class to fulfill their graduation requirements. KibaNaru, slight SasuNaru.
1. Chapter 1

**Getting Credit**

**Chapter 1**

It doesn't look like early afternoon. The sky is dark and it's raining hard and heavy, like God is taking a piss. I lean casually against the wall, crossing my legs at the ankles and staring down at my shoes. They're wet.

I inhale, breathing in moist air, the wind still like before a storm. There's something enlivening about the rain. Everything seems clear and sharp under the blackened sky and the world has an almost surreal quality. I exhale gently.

Footsteps. They slow. "Hey, babe, what's a cute thing like you doing out in the rain?"

I look up. Someone is in front of me, his back to the streetlight and his hood up. I can't see his face, but I know that voice. I watch the silhouette lean back on its heels in the rain, looking casual.

"What, you working the corner?" I can hear the laughter in his voice. "Come on, let's get to class."

I let my mouth tilt into a crooked smile, but don't move. I drop my face to look at my feet again. To be real, I'm nervous. I should be taking the Spanish class offered at school. We both should. Only, that teacher and I are like diet coke and mayonnaise – two things that should never be mixed. I had a talk with the counselor and she said I could get the language credits from the community college. I glance up at the boy. He came along to be with me, says that's what best friends are for.

I can feel his smile, even if I can't see it. He can tell I'm not going anywhere on my own and strolls over, slinging an arm around my neck and leading me toward the classroom door. I feel hot breath on my ear as he runs his fingers through my hair.

"You need me to color your hair again? The roots are growing in."

I shrug, beginning to feel more myself. My anxiety remains, however, and I grumble a warning "Kiba," as he rolls a damp lock of my hair between his fingers. If this class doesn't work out for me, I don't have anywhere else to turn to. Kiba disentangles his hand from my head (taking a few pillaged yellow hairs with him) and punches my shoulder.

"Relax, okay? Didn't you say you knew the alphabet already? It's even in your heritage. Dude, chill. Seriously. It's going to be fine."

I squint up at him, nerves getting the best of me. "There're three alphabets. Three! I know half of two of them. That's nothing." My heart is fast. This idea keeps sounding worse and worse. Why had I conned us into it, again?

Kiba shrugs amiably. "It's more than I know."

I grab him, beating my head miserably against his shoulder. "Blahh," I grumble. "We're going to die. You smell good. I want your shampoo."

"Should I interpret that as a come-on?" He sounds amused, but I suddenly feel uncomfortable. There is a squeamish lump in my gut, like guilt. I pull away, squinting self-consciously at the rain cascading off the roof.

"No, it was a request for you to put in your will," I grumble.

He laughs and holds the door for me. We're at the classroom already. I shuffle in first, squinting under the fluorescent lights. There are maybe twenty students, all clustered in the seats closest to the front of the classroom. In a horrifying moment, I realize that Kiba and I are probably the youngest people here; everyone else seems to be in college or older.

Head pounding with nerves, I lead Kiba toward the back of the room where I can see someone who looks around our age. He doesn't look up at us, and I don't say anything. I grab the seat next to him and drape my dripping raincoat over the back of my chair. Kiba drops his shoulder bag on the floor between us and tosses me my notebook and a pencil.

The professor chooses that moment to walk in. She is short, the distance making her appear smaller, and I am suddenly reminded of Edna from _The Incredibles_. Her face has severe, no-nonsense expression. I fiddle nervously with my pencil. Her dark eyes find me and she frowns. I begin to sweat.

"Hey, you three boy," she calls to the back, pointing to Kiba, the stranger and I. "Why you so far away? You think I let you sit like potato? Come here."

We move forward to the seats she indicated, Kiba following my lead. "What did she say?" He whispers. I shrug and settle down again. Sure, she has a bit of an accent, but Kiba doesn't have to be like that. I flip open my notebook as the professor begins taking roll, writing the names in katakana on the whiteboard. The empty chair beside me pulls back and I look up, meeting black eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Getting Credit**

**Chapter 2 **

Class dismissed. I stand, closing up my notes. Kiba is beside me, taking my book and filing it away into his bag. He catches my eye with a grin. I smile back, but turn my head to look for the dark-eyed boy. He's gone. I see him disappearing out the classroom door. He'd been silent the entire class. My smile fades. I think his name is Sasuke.

I jump when an arm slips around my waist. A chin settles on my shoulder. I smell Kiba's shampoo.

"What are you looking at?" He says it soft in my ear. I shrug.

"Just wondering if it's still raining," I say. I don't know why I lie.

"Hm," he says, giving me a squeeze. "Come one, I'll take you home."

I nod and pull on my raincoat as we fly from the room. Outside, it's stopped raining. The sky is a smoky grey, with angelic streaks of light piercing the clouds. The air tastes wild and new. Everything feels clean after rain.

We squelch through puddles on our way to his car. It's an ugly, beat-up thing that fits three people and a surfboard when crammed. We slide in and he returns the car, spluttering and rattling, to life. There is a smell in Kiba's car, been there since I first rode in it. Dog and salt and sand.

"Kiba, your car smells like ass," I tell him. Another lie, but only because I want to watch his face. He scowls and I steal a grin where he can't see.

"Gee, thanks. Remind me to leave you drowning in the rain next time." He tries to sound bitter, but I can feel his humor, the same way he feels mine.

I smirk, and decide I don't want to get stuck babysitting tonight. I sneak an eye to Kiba. I can see the bulge of his cell in a denim pocket. I make a grab for it. He swerves, nearly throwing us off the road.

"Jesus," I snap, "What the hell! Are you trying to kill us?"

"Says the person groping my thigh. Hello? I'm driving! If you want to feel me up, do it when we're stationary," he shoots back. My hand retreats, embarrassed.

"I want your cell phone," I say it more sharp than I mean. "I'm calling my mom."

"Fine, fine," he grumbles, fishing in his pocket. "Just ask next time."

I take the phone. "I'm spending the night," I inform him. "What's my speed dial?"

"Hold down the one," he says.

I do. It starts to ring. "Quick," I say, "Excuses?"

He grunts, a grin stretching across his face. "Kinky sex. Kiba's weekly blowjob needs. Escaped tigers."

I hold up a finger to silence him. My mom has just picked up.

"Hello?" She sounds tired, distracted. I can hear the twins howling in the background.

"Hey mom, it's me. Can I spend the night at Kiba's?"

"Will you do your work and get to school on time?"

"Yeah, we're going to–" Kiba mouths 'sex therapy' at I punch him in the arm – "study together," I tell her.

She sighs, "Alright. Have fun. Call me tonight. I love you."

"I love you, too." I hang up. Kiba is snickering.

"I love you, too, Naru-chan," he teases.

"Stuff it," I shoot him an evil glare.

He grins and slings an arm around my shoulders, and I pout, staring at my feet. My shoes are still wet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Getting Credit**

**Chapter 3**

"So am I top or bottom?" Kiba asks, sliding across the carpet. He takes a sit sloppily against the bed. The bowl of snacks flops down beside him and snatches up a joystick, his eyes searching the glowing screen.

I'm on his bed, my feet kicked up, resting on my belly. I snicker. "Oh I don't know, why don't you ask Akamaru? He should know better than I do." He throws a cheese puff at my head. It misses, falling near his pillow and disappearing in the rumpled sheets. It will probably smash. I'm glad it's on his side of the bed.

Kiba grumbles, wriggling the controls and trying to figure out which character he's controlling on the screen. I spot him on a ramp.

"You're bottom," I say. It's a lie, and I cackle wildly as I shoot him down.

The screen goes black. He tilts a head to look up at me. There is a dangerous smirk on his face and an evil gleam in his wide brown eye. I'm already backpedaling when he lunges. We scuffle, I'm scrabbling for escape and he's fighting for revenge. The bed creaks and something is jostled off the nightstand. He finally pins me by sitting on my back and holding my wrists. He caught me during a failed crawl for freedom.

"So," he breathes in my ear, "I'm the bottom, am I?" I twist my head owl-style to squint indignantly at him. He disentangles one of his hands and begins to poke my side, punctuating every word. "You little LIAR!" With a yell, he frees both our hands and tickles me mercilessly.

I yelp and writhe under his sadistic fingers. The angle is bad for fighting back. His thighs keep me from escaping, but I manage to squirm around enough to bite him. Kiba growls and grabs me, mouth closing around my neck to bite me back. I freeze. There's something carnal, almost sensual, about the gesture. His mouth is hot, wet. My heart is crazy and I start to panic. Then he's biting too hard and everything is alright. Teeth mean nothing.

"You bit me," I say, panting. I scowl, scolding. He eases up. We're done wrestling.

"Oh, get over it," he says, breathing also uneven. "It's not like I started it." He grins, a flushed, disheveled quirk of the lips.

I roll my eyes. "What are you, five?"

"Hey, isn't that _my_ line?" He laughs, rising on his knees so I can move.

I pinch his arm in revenge as I finally escape my undignified prison. I don't have the energy for a good comeback. I sit on the edge of the bed, opposite to the where Kiba is. I feel hot, fevered, a little sticky with sweat. Kiba is cooling down on his end of the bed. His face is flushed. Mine probably is, too. I catch his eye and he grins. I stick out my tongue.

The bedroom door bangs open and Hana steps in, long ponytail swinging behind her. She looks about to say something, but she stops, leaving us with an odd look. She backs up out of the room, closing the door behind her. We hear a knock.

"What?" Kiba snaps, trying to straighten his rumples. The door flies open again. Hana has a wicked grin. I recognize it and feel hot and cold. It's the same one Kiba had just before he pounced.

"I was going to say that dinner is ready. Feel free to come down when you're done." She claps her hands, rubbing the palms together suggestively. Her smile spreads when Kiba's flush darkens. My stomach lurches uneasily at the obscene gesture. She winks at me before whisking out of the room. The shoe Kiba throws hits a closed door.


	4. Chapter 4

Getting Credit

Chapter 4

"Kyoukashou!" Sensei yells. She is standing in front of the whiteboard like a bug on flypaper. There is a long pointer stick, one end resting primly beneath her palms, the other stabbed ominously into the thin carpet. Kiba looks down to me, a touch of panic in his eye. It's mutual. Neither of us have an inkling.

I spy on our neighbor, the silent one. He has a thin yellow textbook lying open on the desk. He catches me staring. I shoot him an awkward grin and lurch my gaze away. I lean into Kiba.

"I think it's the textbook."

"The shrimpy yellow thing?"

"Yeah."

"Crap, I left it."

I crack mine open for him. He grins at me, sliding an arm around the back of my chair.

"Thanks, babe. You have no idea what this means to me," he purrs. My gut squirms a little, but I keep a cold face. I squint up at him, grimacing a little. Kiba leers, lecherous fingers toying with the back of my neck. I roll my eyes.

"Oh, save it. You're never going to get a girl with lines like that."

He shrugs like he doesn't care.

I scrunch up my nose and stick out a tongue. He smirks and makes a grab for it.

My tongue retreats quickly and I rear away, Kiba's fingers pinching at my pursed lips. I'm stumbling backward, away from him. The first arm gives against my back, the second one stops me. I've landed, sprawled disgracefully across a stranger's lap, my spine braced against his bicep. He stares me down, black eyes unreadable.

We jump when Sensei's pointer stick smacks the desk in front of us.

"What are you doing?" She roars, her voice shooting up. Her dark eyes fly to Kiba, still stifling his laughter. "You think something so funny? Where your textbook?"

Kiba stills, nervous. I slip off Sasuke's lap, him tensing a little as I slide over the keys in his pocket. I mouth an apology.

"I forgot it at home," Kiba offers.

Her face is calm, her eyes the only window to a perfect storm of rage. She cocks her head, deadly still, like a bird of prey reassessing its victim. I hold my breath, riveted on her whim. The idiot doesn't recognize danger. He slouches back against his chair, flashing his charming grin.

"Don't sweat it," he lays it on thick. "Naru-chan here is sharing with me." He reaches over an arm and cups the back of my neck, rubbing a thumb against my hairline. I shiver.

He drops his arm when her nostrils flare.

"You think I am sweating?" She says it deadly, and I know he's a goner, even if he doesn't.

"Huh?"

"I show you sweating. Come here!"

Kiba hunches his eyebrows and tilts his head, lost.

"I said COME HERE! You such outstanding student, come here!"

He follows here, uncertain, to the front of the class, to the door.

"Out," she says, pointing. "You are outstanding student, right?" She smiles, entertained. "Go."

He does, stepping out of the classroom to wait within sight in the hall, completely baffled. I almost laugh, but silence for the risk of Sensei's temper.


	5. Chapter 5

Getting Credit

Chapter 5

Sitting with Sasuke isn't half bad. This I think to myself as we practice dialogue from the textbook. I fumble with the hiragana, kicking myself.

He replies evenly. "Hawai no tenki wa yokatta desu. Tabemono wa oishikatta desu. Takusan sakana o tabemashita." I find myself watching him; his black lashes lowered, lips moving. His reading is flawless and I realize it's the first time I've heard him speak. His lashes lift and black eyes are stuck on mine.

"Anata no me…" he murmurs, tilting back his head. I blink. That's not in the textbook. I frown. He's looking at me. "…wa sora no you de aru." His lips turn up a little.

What a weirdo. I give him an awkward grin, fidgeting with my pencil.

I return my gaze to the thin yellow textbook and feel him watch me before turning away with a snort. I spy on him from a corner in my eye. He is frowning at the wall, as though deeply offended by its off-white color and lack of adornment. Then he turns back and catches me looking. The flash in his black eyes chases mine away, and I throw my eyes at the door.

Kiba has gone. I can see out the door from my seat; he ditched after the first few humiliating minutes of being an "outstanding student." Can I blame him? It's just… the air feels cold around the empty seat, like a ghost on my skin. This I think to myself as I scratch clumsy characters into my notes. I almost miss him.

------------------------------

Kiba's bag is heavy on my shoulder. I take it for him on the off chance he comes back for me. I shuffle the band over my collarbone, hunting for a place where it doesn't dig in. I don't realize I'm being followed until Sasuke catches a wayward elbow.

"Are you following me?" I squint suspiciously at him.

He smirks at me. "Class is over, dobe. We all use the same door."

I try a sneer back on him. He's too amused for my taste, and I turn away. His hand on my arm stills me again.

"What?" I say it more curious than cold. His mouth tilts up. His hand is still on me.

"Your friend left. Would you like a ride home?" He says it cool and uncaring, but his eyes say different.

I cast a glance out the door. The sky is a thick, curdled grey like old gravy but a weak light shines through, as though outside our city it's a beautiful day.

"Thanks," I say, "but I think he's coming back for me." I make to leave, but his fingers tighten on me, keeping me close. He holds me for a moment before letting me go, silently, wordlessly. The tingle in my skin is all that remains of him as he vanishes across the parking lot.

* * *

* Hawai no tenki wa yokatta desu. Tabemono wa oishikatta desu. Takusan sakana o tabemashita. = boring textbook sentences, used to teach students the correct use of past tense verbs and adjectives.

*Anata no me wa sora no you de aru. = silly, rather unfortunate pickup line. In awkward Japanese.


	6. Chapter 6

Getting Credit

Chapter 6

Kiba comes for me after class. He's leaning against his battered car, waiting in the parking lot. He brings me home with him again, this time for a few hours only – my mom needs help watching the twins.

We bang through his bedroom door and Kiba starts up the computer, looking pensive. "I want to see something," he says as the machine finishes booting up, "It'll be fun." He grins up at me. "Grab a seat, Naru."

I settle beside him, slightly puzzled, but trusting. I'm close. Our legs touch and I feel the heat of his skin through denim. It's uncomfortable. I retreat into my own personal bubble.

Kiba sighs, sounding irritated. He is flicking through the Favorites on his web browser. Deciding on one, he selects it. I'm watching his face, the thoughtful frown, the worried lip. A loud moan shakes the speakers and I jump, whirling my head around to look at the screen. Kiba has turned to look at me, gauging my reaction. Our eyes catch for a second, before mine settle on Kiba's 'fun.'

It's porn. There is a girl, long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders, and there is a man, tanned, handsome, taking her. I feel cold. I know Kiba is watching me. I feel his eyes on me, searching my face for something. A wash of nerves. What is he looking for? I feel sick.

I catch his eyes. He stares back, looking amused, aroused. I swallow. My gaze falls to his lap. I can practically feel him cracking a grin. He strokes himself through his pants, putting on a show. It's like he's egging me on, daring me to do the same. Daring me to like it. I tear my eyes away, nauseous, panicked, and they are unwillingly drawn back to the couple on the screen.

They're really going at it. Kiba has turned down the volume, but I can still hear them, moaning, crying out in broken voices. I find that I'm not looking at the girl. My eyes are on the man, on his face, twisted with pleasure, on the way he moves. I realize that I'm picturing the girl with shorter hair, a flatter chest. The man runs a tongue over her shoulder blade and a phantom stripe burns hot on my back. I swallow again.

I'm hard. Oh, fuck, I'm hard.

Kiba shifts in his seat. He's been watching me, glancing at the screen every now and again. He's got that little half-smile, but there's something sad, something resigned in his eye.

I clench my fists on my thighs. It's like he's testing me. Did I pass? Do I want to pass? It's all jumbled. My head's on fire and I'm shaking. This is all wrong.

I stand, shoving away my chair. "I'm going," I say, my voice cold. "I have to babysit." I lurch away, out of his room, out of his house. I'm running. I want to puke. I stop, leaning against a signpost to catch my breath. I'm still shaking. My legs are weak like they're going to give. I begin to curse, damning Kiba, the man, the girl. That girl…

All I can see is that last moment. Kiba is half-standing, his torso twisted. He's coming after me, his face a blend of surprise and confusion. Behind him, the man is coming, crying out, his hands digging into the girl's hips. And the girl, lips parted, is looking up at the camera.

And all I can think is that she has my eyes.

I bend over and vomit onto the curbside.


	7. Chapter 7

**Getting Credit**

**Chapter 7**

I don't talk to Kiba after that. At school we don't share classes, and the Japanese class is once a week. It's cold and quiet in me. The world's all noise and color and it left me out.

What was wrong? I don't know. It's not what I wanted to see.

He calls, and I'm not there. I'm careful to never be there. He came by the house once, twice, and I hid in the dryer with lint in my mouth and the twins howling. So I hide all week, stinking like fabric softener, until another language class rolls over to me and reminds me to graduate.

The day smells like gulls and salt and stink, and I walk through downtown and over the river, and I never knew class was so far. But the sun pours light on everything, so the colors fade and the puddles dry up around the edges. And my shoes are tied, so I walk fast.

Class is partway already when I get there. _Okurete sumimasen. Arukimashita. Hai. Sumimasen._ I'd practiced on the way. Appeased, she lets me sit, and I look away from Kiba's pleading eyes and sit next to Sasuke, the same stranger as I always do. He turns to me, and looks a little while the teacher speaks. And Kiba is looking and waving and fluttering, but the whiteboard has stains on it, and there are notes to write.

Class is practicing sentences. I graze from the textbook, trading words with Sasuke.

"Mokuyoubi ni tenki wa dou deshou ka?" I mumble, and he answers.

"Chotto ii tenki da to omoimasuyo. So you didn't get a ride with your friend today."

"Huh?"

"Keep reading. Well?"

"No I didn't. Um, how about number four. Ano Niwa e ikimashou ka?"

"Iie. Niwa ga daikirai desu."

My eyebrows fly up. Where was he reading that? "Um, number four…?"

His mouth twisted up a little. "I know. But these sentences suck."

I laugh, surprised. And my eyes make a mistake and find Kiba. His face is angry and dark. And he's watching.

* * *

*** **Okurete sumimasen. Arukimashita. Hai. Sumimasen. = apologies/excuses for lateness

*****Mokuyoubi ni tenki wa dou deshou ka/Chotto ii tenki da to omoimasuyo./etc = boring, future-tense practice

Um, sorry this took so long in coming. Sadly, I'm not back into my writing groove, so this might be a stand-alone update for another good long while.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long. I've been thinking about where I was going to go with this for a while, but the recent reviews and Yanni's giant puppy dog eyes got me back on this. Thanks to everyone who's reading this. All of you, especially those of you who've reviewed, are what has kept these chapters coming. The slowness is my fault.

**Getting Credit**

**Chapter 8**

I avoid Kiba after that. All I can think is how he watched the man and the girl, dick in hand. How he was thinking, he wished he was that man.

And how I was thinking, how I wished I was that girl.

My chest burns cold. My hand covers my heart. It won't warm. Eyes close, hoping. Hoping he doesn't know. Hoping he didn't notice.

What would he say to the best friend who doesn't want a woman? Go home? Don't sleep in my bed? I don't want to see you?

What would I say? How I wished I was there, how I wished you were there, how I wished you were that man? How I wished I didn't want that? How I wished I could want a woman?

I cover my mouth. The thoughts stop. I carry my feet a little faster. This time I'm at class early, shoes wet. Heart cold. Beating fast because I ran without realizing.

The classroom is empty. Half an hour is too early. Sensei is writing kanji on the board. I bow in the doorway.

"しつれいします," I murmur. "こんにちは."

She turns from the board and smiles. "こんにちは," she calls and bows back. "ナルトくん と サスケくん も 早い ですね. So late one week, so early next week. Did you break up with girlfriend?"

I feel hot and stutter in dissent. She just smiles cheerily, waves me on. Turns back to the board with humor in her step.

I blow out air, rub circles on a nervous stomach. I glanced too fast, first time around. Sasuke sits in the back. A book rests open in his hands, but he watches me.

I watch back. I follow the gaps in the desks 'til I stand beside him. His knee brushes mine. Warm, even through denim.

He smiles a little. "So your girlfriend broke up with you?" He says it casual, like he doesn't care.

My gut twists around, uncomfortable. I give a twisted little smile. "I don't have a girlfriend." I hesitate, notice the measuring look in his eyes. I sigh and settle down next to him. The chair is cold plastic. "I'm not talking to Kiba." I frown, not sure why I tell him the truth.

"What did he do?" I'm surprised by the harshness. Measuring eyes have turned calculating. He looks calm. Angry.

I snort at him. "Nothing," I say. Then I frown, the reason coming back to me, making me nervous. What if Sasuke notices? What would he say?

He surprises me again with a snort of his own. It's impatient, irritated. He flicks frustrated fingers through his hair. I watch the light play on the strands, not ready for his eyes.

"I'm sure." His voice is caustic. "Tell me. What did he do?"

I frown again. What _did_ he do? Nothing, really. What was wrong was me, my thoughts, my reaction. My fears. The reason for my fears.

I laugh, but it sounds hollow. "Nothing," I say again. What could I say? I'm a horrible best friend? There's something wrong with me? "It's my fault," I say it aloud on accident. I flush. My voice speeds up, trying to cover the mistake. "I'm the one avoiding him. It's not his fault. I ran off. He just wanted to-" I cut myself off. I said too much. I stare at him in sullen silence. I will say no more.

There is a feral fire in his eye. "What did he want to do, Naruto?" His voice is calm. "Naruto?"

I hold his stubborn look. I turn away, fish out my notebook. Begin reviewing terms. A hand shoots over the paper. Sasuke grabs my wrist.

"What did he do?" he hissed.

I stare in his eyes. Fear, tension, guilt, playing my heart. He is firm, unyielding.

There is a _smack_ as something slaps the desk. We jump apart, stunned. "Go on date outside class!" Sensei is standing over us, two flyswatters in hand. She'd used one to hit the desk. We stare up, apprehensive. Her stern expression transforms into a benevolent grin. "Come play kanji game. You test it."

We blink. She grins wider, pats Sasuke's head. "You find new boyfriend now, Naruto-kun. You come to class on time after today?" She beams. Her face scrunches up. She's never looked happier.

I feel seven shades of red, up to the dark roots of my hair. I calm my fluttering heart. _She doesn't know. She doesn't know. She doesn't know._

How much had she heard?

Heart hammering, I move up to the board. Sasuke is behind me. I don't look at him, too afraid. _Does he know?_ _He doesn't know. She doesn't know. He doesn't…_

_Do they?_

I give up, put it out of my mind. Sasuke and I each have a flyswatter and are standing on either side of the board.

"木!" Sensei shouts. I stare at the board, searching for the kanji for 'tree.' I spot it just as Sasuke's flyswatter smacks it. "Very good. One point!" She announces as she marks the score on a paper. "岩!"

And so it continues.

As more classmates trickle in, they line up behind us, forming teams, switching active kanji-swatters when she yells for it. Competition is fierce. I almost don't notice when Kiba comes.

He sidles in the door and slips off his bag. I see the way his muscles move under his clothes. I don' t like that I notice. I focus on the play of characters across the board, memorizing, scheming…

Then there's someone standing behind me, and I smell his shampoo. I catch myself closing my eyes. I frown, stiffen. He leans in and whispers, "Hey," into my neck, all soft and quiet-like, as though nothing had happened. And for a second, I want to play along. _Nothing is wrong. He doesn't know anything._

My worries calm. I flush with warmth. I'm okay. I touch my lips. They're smiling.

The fear is gone. Vengeance has just begun.

My face schools itself into indifference, distaste. I move away as though irritated. I hide my grin. He catches my elbow in his warm palm, spins me. I stare, disinterested. "Yes?" He looks lost, like he's a child that got kicked and doesn't understand why.

I catch my sympathy and save it. He's atoning, I tell myself.

"Hang out after class today?" He has the nerve to sound hopeful.

I stare, imperious, at the board. "I'm going to Sasuke's today. He's a nice guy." Then it's my turn to smack the kanji. I head for the board, but not before I see something furious in his face. I bite my lip, wonder if this is what I want. Shrug. Hit the 学 before my opponent.

At the end of class, I catch Sasuke as he stands with his bag. I slip closer to murmur to him. "Is it okay if I pretend to go home with you?"

He raises an eyebrow. I thought he might question, but he doesn't. He just looks where Kiba stands, glaring, two rows forward. He smirks faintly. "Of course," he says. "This way."

He leads me to his motorcycle in the parking lot. Hands me the helmet. Slides on. I slip behind him, arms around his waist. Kiba's watching. I see him standing outside the classroom. He doesn't even pretend to do something else.

The motorcycle explodes into life. I cling tighter as we creep out of the parking lot and shoot off into the street. I have Sasuke in a vice grip. The ground blurs. We're out of sight of the college and I shout to be heard over the engine.

"You can drop me here. Thanks for the lift."

He shakes his head. "Might as well take you all the way there." He calls back.

"But you don't know where I live."

"To my house. I can drop you off later."

He takes my stunned silence as agreement. The motorcycle shoots around the corner. The fear comes back.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

**A/N:** Before you start pelting me with decaying vegetables for the cliffhanger, hey! Check out the chapter! It's long…ish. And there's character development and plot advancement! What do you know!

Previously, I haven't put the time or care into this story that it (and you) deserve. I promise that from now on I will take this story more seriously. That means that the chapters will be longer, and there will be character AND plot development. Yay!

Also, have I mentioned this before? The Sensei in this story is essentially my high school Japanese teacher. I started this story partly because I wanted to pop her in, because she's stinking hilarious. She liked to make racy, vaguely inappropriate jokes and, if questioned, blame it on the language barrier. She used to smack students, but the administration made her stop. I thought she was awesome. She actually liked me (I never got smacked on the head) and even wrote letters of recommendation for me for college.

You can throw rotten vegetables at me now.

The Japanese dialogue: "Excuse me, good afternoon." "Good afternoon. Both you and Sasuke are early today, hm?" Then random, level 1 kanji. Tree, rock and study. Yeah.


End file.
